


Splinter

by often_adamanta



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-12
Updated: 2005-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Originally posted at livejournal <a href="http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/116709.html">here</a>.</p></blockquote>





	Splinter

(1)

Gold sand, gold sun, gold skin. He needed pictures of this moment, all glamour and riches. His body melted into the sand, sweat and salt water shimmering.

There were eyes on him. He could feel them caressing his body. Touches that felt just like any solid hand, appreciative, sliding off with a faint whisper of skin.

One pair did not. Deep ocean blue pinned him with pressure, chilled him until he shivered. He stretched, flexed, subtle movement that ground his hips into the sand. He did not seek the stare, ignoring that tight intensity.

The boy would come to him.

(2)

Orli curled against the black leather of the cab and closed his eyes against the blurred view out the window. He smelt of sex and smoke, and when he licked his lips, he could taste blood.

The top button of his jeans had been ripped off. Rings of bruises were just forming around his wrists in the shape of fingers. Scrapes marred one high cheekbone from where he’d hit his face over and over against the rough brick wall. An imprint of teeth marked the back of his neck, breaking the skin in several places.

He deserved all of it.

 

(3)

Sweat beaded on his flushed skin, shaking loose with every full body thrust of Elijah’s cock into him, running in streaks down his body. Elijah paused to lick the drops collecting at the base of his throat, learning texture and taste.

Orli lived in his skin, every stretched, straining inch, knew exactly how to hold himself open, even obedient. His legs rested lightly on pale shoulders, his arches and heels feeling the brush of damp hair when Elijah pulled back, intense and purposeful. Orli counted quick breaths between the rolling glides of Elijah’s body.

He’d never liked it slow before.

 

(4)

He didn’t even think about it, just pulled back his fist and crashed it into Orli’s face, the jarring force along his arm as it hit contradicting the grace in his motion.

Orli tumbled to the ground, and Elijah was left standing alone, staring at his hand in shock. The knuckles were pulsing, a bruise already tinting his light skin in blues to match the shadowed depressions under his eyes.

Orli brushed his fingers along his lip, gazing at the glistening red on the tips when he brought them away. He stood and turned to leave.

Elijah didn’t stop him.

 

(5)

Her skin was smooth, pale and exposed. She smiled invitingly, making no pretext about what she wanted, dark hair grazing bare shoulders.

Orli took a sip of his drink, amber and crystalline, and considered. She licked slick, dark lips, and he felt himself harden and wondered. It had been a long time since a woman made him feel. He flipped a mental coin and shrugged. Went with it.

He was following close behind her, striding to the dingy bathroom and breathing in her scent, when he recognized the source of the burn, the crimson attraction.

She reminded him of Elijah.

 

(6)

The black suit felt stiff and unwieldy, but Orlando wore it with grace. The high collar stuck into the underside of his jaw as he peered into the open casket.

He ran two steady fingers along the brow of his father and came away with a fine layer of makeup. His father’s all trussed up and ready for death.

Orlando wasn’t grieving. He knew his mother wasn’t, despite her somber black attire. He couldn’t quite find it in himself to mourn a man he never knew and couldn’t decide what that meant about him.

It really didn’t make any difference.

 

(7)

Elijah was hiding something, which was a bit of a surprise. He almost didn’t recognize it for what it was because Elijah was always so honest that he’d stopped paying attention to such things. It was true, though. Elijah was hiding something.

It didn’t take him long to figure out what it was once he knew, but the exercise was amusing.

The plain box in the fridge held a cheesecake from Orli’s favorite restaurant. Delicate chocolate wished him a happy birthday across the creamy surface. Orli stared at it, dumbfounded, before replacing it carefully.

He’d forgotten it was his birthday.

 

(8)

The air in the club was dense and vibrating with bodies and music, but Orlando was used to it by now and ignored his surroundings while he drank.

It took him a while to realize the man beside him wanted his attention, not the bartender’s. Orli raised eyebrows at the unexpected, open leer on the man’s face, the twenties discretely rolled into the man’s hand.

Orlando started laughing, so hard that other patrons began to look. The man flushed and left. Orli rested his head against the bar, a smile slanting his lips.

Money was the last thing he needed.

 

(9)

Elijah stood shock still in the open doorway; his eyes riveted on Orli and the man with his tongue down Orli’s throat in the middle of the day, in their home.

The groceries he’d been dropping off on his lunch hour fell to the floor with a crash, and the two leapt apart, spinning around to face him. The man slipped quickly past Elijah without a backwards glance, leaving Orli alone.

Orli crossed his arms and shrugged, a bitter smile on his lips that drew Elijah’s attention to their purple-red hue, bruised from hard kisses.

Elijah’s shock turned incandescent rage.

 

(10)

His dad caught him making out with the boy down the street on their darkened back porch at two in the morning. The other boy ran as soon as the yellowed light clicked on, but Elijah couldn’t do anything but wait and stand his ground.

His father was almost too large to be framed by the doorway as he pushed the protesting screen open. He backhanded Elijah coldly, sneered, and went back inside, demanding a drink from Elijah’s mom, who was leaning against a kitchen counter, huddled in her robe.

Elijah picked himself up, packed, and left within the hour.

 

(11)

Orli reached out when he slept. Elijah didn’t think he realized, but every morning Elijah would wake up entwined with Orlando’s skin, so tan it made Elijah’s appear stark white.

Mostly, Orli threaded their hands together, which annoyed Elijah at first. He’d try to roll over only to find his fingers interlocked and pinned down. And when Elijah couldn’t sleep, Orli would follow his movements as he shifted and turned, chasing him across the bed. Soon he was used to it, although he didn’t understand what this meant. Orlando seemed so distant all the time.

He didn’t question it, though.

 

(12)

He could tell it was day. The tightly drawn drapes were too cheap to entirely block out the sun’s pale orange glare. Orlando didn’t know how long it’d been, although he could wager a guess from the stubble he’d grown, from how much he could move without wincing.

The sheets were a dingy, almond color and scraped against his skin, but he didn’t notice. He’d hardly moved since falling into bed. He didn’t sleep, just stared endlessly at the ceiling until he didn’t feel. A single tear ghosted down his cheek.

He understood what it meant to be alone now.

 

(13)

His skin was so pale as to be translucent, and Elijah could track startling purple-blue veins through his arm effortlessly. It’d be the easiest thing to free the blood inside, thick and scarlet, and finally see some color.

He’d pulled apart a disposable razor and practiced on his forearm, tiny cuts to see how it would feel. It hurt, but not enough to stop him if he decided to do it for real. He didn’t know what kept the razor safely hidden in the pale blue condom box he hadn’t needed.

It wasn’t like he had anything to live for.

 

(14)

He stood as far away as possible. Elijah blocked the entrance to the darkened apartment with his body. The flickering hall lights were a harsh yellow, emphasizing the matching sickly, purple shadows beneath their bloodshot eyes. Their clothes were deeply creased, and both of them had greasy hair sticking up in all directions.

Orli leaned against the wall. Elijah firmly gripped the door handle. They stood and stared at each other, not knowing how to go back, not knowing how to go forward. They waited for the other to make a move.

Orli sighed, one shaky hand rising toward Elijah.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at livejournal [here](http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/116709.html).


End file.
